AN: This chapter introduces gangs into the story, which is only for plot purposes and is not in any way meant to glorify or sanction gang activity.

Adrian bent over suddenly, one hand bracing himself against the brick wall as he threw up. He'd never killed anyone before.

Behind him, Del was dragging the body farther back into the alley behind the old rave. Garbage rustled as the older boy kicked cardboard and other trash over the corpse. "Good shot!" his friend said, coming back to clap a hand on his shoulder. His grin was too white in his face. "Sweet piece of work, kid. You're in for sure now."

The other boy looked up at him, his eyes watery from vomiting. "What?" he asked, certain that losing his lunch had lost him his chance of joining the gang. Bad enough that he was Chinese and couldn't get into the Chinese gangs because of his mixed blood; now he'd blown his opportunity to belong somewhere else.

Del drew himself up proudly, a string of light blue, gray and white rosary beads wound around one wrist. He had taken a knife to his own bicep long ago, the scars now stretched and shiny, forming a six-pointed star that was paler against the dark hue of his skin. "I told you, cuzz, do the deed in front of a LOC, and you get in. You already know our history and codes; this was the last step."

The other teen nodded, spitting the last of the bile from his mouth. He straightened up, shaking a little from the retching. A .357 Magnum was still in his other hand and Del took it from him quickly, making it vanish into his jacket before anyone looked their way. It was almost midnight, but it never hurt to be careful. "I just... I'm not..." Adrian swallowed hard and looked back at the alley. "What did that guy do, anyway?"

Del shrugged. "Who cares? Blood colors on our turf ain't somethin' to tolerate, or they're all gonna feel like they can move in." He hooked his arm around Adrian's neck and yanked his head down for a noogie. "Let's get back to the Ironman... he's gonna want to hear about this right now!"

"Omigod, this place is so cool!"

Nuada sighed. There were times when she was quiet and helpful, very nearly tolerable. And then there were times like this, when she rushed about in childish excitement. The girl couldn't seem to stay in one spot for any real length of time; bouncing from one damaged section of the building to another. Splintered wood planks leaning against a decrepit bar clattered as she pushed them aside to squeeze under them. The bar had been backed by a high mirror that had run the entire length of it; most of the glass was gone, but several shards remained in the dusty metal frame. The sound of glass scratching across the floor behind the bar jarred the air and Orchid squealed again, "There's peanuts back here!"

He and Wink surveyed the interior. Gaudy blue and black spraypaint formed strange symbols on some areas of the walls. The original flooring had been ripped away and a scuffed black surface had been laid down over a large, squared area that was situated lower than the rest of the floor. Nuada walked along the edge of the dance pit, avoiding the occasional broken table or chair that littered his path, looking around at the remains of the inside. Midnighrunner had been a hotel once, he could see the shells of rooms in the upper story, but most of the ceilings and walls had been removed, looking oddly scooped away, and the electrical wiring of those rooms had been appropriated for large, garish lights that hung over the center of the former lobby.

The floor creaked under Wink's feet as the troll circled around the other way, edging past the area where bands had been set up and blasted their music as loudly as possible. The stage was empty now, with only some broken equipment left behind when the rave had closed for good. The air smelled musty and stale, and held the odors of many generations of stray animals. A scrawny black-and-white cat approached to curvette itself around Nuada's feet. He knelt down to rub its head, his eyes noting the shy forms of kittens behind the stage.

The girl hoisted herself up onto the bar, a handful of shiny plastic packages in one hand. "Who wants honey-roasted?"

Nuada glared at her and she quelled herself, stuffing the bags of peanuts into her pocket. He looked across at the troll, "Mr. Wink?"

"It's not bad," his friend shrugged. "The floor is relatively solid, and the supports above seem to have fared well. We shouldn't have to worry about anything coming down upon us, but I will go up to make sure."

"Very well," the Elf replied. If the upper floor wouldn't collapse under Wink's weight, then it would be safe for Nuada and certainly for the scrap of a girl they'd brought with them. Long years of remaining in the sewers of San Francisco, while oppressive, had left the prince with a faintly uneasy feeling in such an open area. He preferred the space, but it was still a great deal to watch for possible attack.

Cloth scraped against the bar as Orchid hopped down and continued to explore. She trotted down a hallway, the sound soon followed by a screech of old hinges. The cat startled and fled to the stage and he cast an irritated glance where the human had gone. "Found the bathroom!" she called. "I think the water's still on for this place."

An unexpected, but not entirely unwelcome detail. The prince stood and scanned the large dance area again. Making camp here would be an adjustment, but one that he could handle. A set of stairs opposite the bathroom's hallway led up and his firegold eyes went up the wall to see a darkened window overlooking the rave. Curiosity sent him over there, and he went up the narrow staircase until it stopped at a locked door. A solid kick right next to the knob splintered the frame and Nuada pushed the door open. Inside was a dusty desk, papers and files scattered in boxes or strewn on the floor. A steel five-drawer filing cabinet stood forlorn in one corner, its drawers open and empty. The window took up most of the wall and he peered out to see that the view of the floor was excellent.

"Orchid," Wink called and the girl came running. "Let's see what's upstairs."

She reached up to him and he bent down to pick her up, lifting her onto his shoulder. "Peanuts?" she asked and he nodded. The girl tore open one of the packs and poured it into his good hand; he tossed the entire handful in his mouth and crunched. "There was another set of stairs back that way," she said, pointing back down the hallway. "I think they go all the way up."

"Stay behind me up there," he rumbled. "I'm going to see how solid the floors above are."

The girl gave him a worried look. "What if you fall?"

"Trolls bounce," he said, poking her stomach with one finger. She giggled and hugged him around the neck as they went back down the short hallway that led to the entrance and the stairs she'd mentioned.

Nuada set his foot against the edge of the desk and shoved it back, opening up more space in the room. He set his pack on it, realizing that with so much room, it was entirely feasible for him to have his own space away from the human. Privacy was once again an option. His dark mouth curved a little as a small smile crept into place. Leaving his things on the desk, he went back downstairs.

Behind the bar was a kitchen area which had been stripped of most if its appliances and much of the tile. The oven door was missing, and electrical wiring hung from the walls like shriveled vines. Cabinets hung open, their doors gone or clinging to safety by a single hinge. A few cans were left in the storage, their sides belled out as if inflated from within. More painted glyphs were in here too and Nuada wondered what they might mean. He and Wink had seen similar graffiti in shadowed areas of San Francisco, but the symbols there were nothing like these, though equally meaningless. He shook his head disdainfully; human "art" simply wasn't.

An ominous creaking from the dance area drew his attention and he left the kitchen, brushing dust from the sleeves of his favorite sable tunic. Up above, Wink was carefully stepping across the remains of the second tier, checking his footing every time before settling his weight down to a fresh complaint from the floor. Orchid was in one of the half-rooms, tossing pillows and other abandoned stained bedding down to the main floor. She finished scavenging in one room and went to the next, following the path that Wink had already established as safe.

"What do you see up there?" Nuada called up to his friend. He made a minute adjustment to the crimson sash around his waist. The gold emblem of his clan glimmered against the stark colors.

The troll shook his head, his attention at his feet. "Nothing of much use, aside from old bedding. I worry that I may not be able to craft or make repairs while we're here."

"There's another room behind this one that may serve," the prince replied. "It could certainly use your singular ability to transform something out of nothing."

"Thank you," Wink replied as his hoof slid forward another handspan. "So long as we can maintain-"

A sharp crack sounded through the creaking and Wink froze. He slowly slid his hoof back, and another louder crack echoed in the stillness. With a sudden shifting and groan, the section he was standing on gave way and he plummeted to the main floor, his heavy form splintering the side of the band area.

"Wink!" screamed Orchid, flinging out a hand as if to catch him, even so far away.

Nuada crossed the space in a breath and went to one knee by the troll. "Wink?" he said anxiously. He'd seen his friend take hits that would fell the mightiest beast and shrug them off, but mishap was always a chancy thing.

The larger fey brushed debris off his face with his good hand, rough laughter rumbling in his chest. "Well, it looked solid."

The prince grinned, relieved that Wink was just fine. "Apparently not," he said dryly. "Are you well?"

"Quite," he replied, his great gray head nodding once. He set both elbows against the stage and pushed himself up into a sitting position. "No reason to go up there anyway, it's all been picked over already."

His white hair swayed as the prince nodded, "I agree, no need for that." He turned his face up to see Orchid above, still wide-eyed with concern. He beckoned her with one elegant hand so she could see for herself that Wink was all right, "Come down."

She nodded and vanished back into the far side of the upper floor.

Nuada looked back at Wink, chuckling as the troll pried himself out of the broken wood of the stage. "I wouldn't have fallen," he teased.

The troll gave him a cynical look. "Sounds like someone wants some mild practice," he grumbled, pushing himself up with his hands. A nearly inaudible creak sounded again under Wink, and Nuada's grin vanished as he threw himself away from that spot in a backwards roll. Elven ears could hear the sound,elven reflexes could avoid the danger. Wink had neither as the rave's floor, built from materials provided by the lowest bidder, cracked and broke away in a ramp, sending the large fey sliding down into the basement with a crash.

Nuada crouched at the edge, peering down into the darkness. A flood of Trollish profanity aimed at human craftsmanship floated up from below and the prince choked down a laugh.

Adrian woke up, his mouth dry and a faceful of sunlight stabbing into his head. He groaned and rolled over, covering his eyes with one hand. The rickety iron bed squeaked under him, reminding him that he wasn't at home and he sighed. His grandmother wasn't going to be happy that he'd stayed out all night again. A thin white sheet tangled around his legs and he kicked it off and sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. Initiations were always a big deal, and when Ironman had made Adrian's status official, the whole gang had brought out beers and joints to celebrate.

The room seemed to rock around him as he tried to stand and the fifteen-year old sat back down, dropping his head into his hands. Fragmented pieces of the night before came and went and his bile rose again. Yeah, he'd lost his virginity last night, though he wasn't sure with which girl, but he'd killed a guy too. Someone he'd never spoken to, never met, never heard of. Just bang, and the guy was gone. It made Adrian wonder if that might happen to him someday.

The faint scent of bacon drifted up from the kitchen below and his nausea washed away in sudden hunger. He rubbed his head, trying to soothe his headache, then ran a hand through his short black hair to push it into place. This was Ironman's house; he and his brother Del lived alone since their mother had left long ago and their father had been murdered by Bloods. Fortunately, Ironman was over eighteen; since he was the brains and called the shots, the gang usually met there without worrying about misguided social workers checking on the two boys.

He stood up unsteadily and headed for the door. It shocked him how hungry he was; grass really did do a number on his appetite. Downstairs, the scent of bacon grew stronger and was joined by frying eggs and toast. Adrian's stomach growled loudly as he went into the kitchen.

"Mornin', baby G," Ironman said cheerfully. He was standing barefoot in front of the stove, wearing only a pair of frayed and faded jeans. Adrian felt underdeveloped at the sight of Ironman's broad shoulders and defined muscles. A string of blue and purple beads crossed the other man's throat, indicating his affiliation and status as an assassin. Three gold rings glittered along the edge of his ear; the edge of the other one was crinkled and deformed from being bitten off long ago. "Shelly didn't break you last night, did she?"

"Uh, no," Adrian said, blushing a little. At least he knew which girl to be extra nice to now. "What time is it?"

The black man looked at his watch, the band turned so that the face was against the inside of his wrist. A six-pointed star was tattooed on the web of flesh between his thumb and forefinger. "Be about half after ten," he replied.

"Shit," Adrian groaned. "I'm totally late for school."

Ironman shrugged, scooping eggs onto a plate with bacon and handing it to Adrian. "No worries, cuzz," he said. "Take the day off and I'll write ya a note."

That was almost funny. "What's it gonna say?" Adrian asked. "Please excuse Adrian, he was busy getting high and screwing his brains out last night?"

"Might be," the other gang member laughed. "You're family now, cousin. Ain't nothin' we won't do for you."

Adrian picked up a piece of bacon and took a bite, wondering how his grandmother, who'd emigrated from Nanking, would react to a black man calling her grandson "cousin." The bacon slice vanished and he gobbled another just as quickly. "Where's Del?" he asked, his mouth full.

"Went shopping," came the answer, "with Jerko and deMarius. Damn, those dogs know how to clean out a fridge." Ironman winked at Adrian as he finished cooking his own food and turned off the burners. He went to the kitchen table and turned a chair around to sit in it backwards, setting the plate on the table and starting in on the eggs.

The eggs were really good; Adrian wolfed them down. "You write notes for Del too?"

"Nah, bro got his GED two months ago. You might wanna think about doing the same, so you ain't got conflicting loyalties."

Something about those last two words made Adrian shiver. "What do you mean? We're not at war with the schools, are we?"

Ironman shook his head, his handsome face turning serious. "But the Bloods and Latin Kings got their own kids in school. You're full in now, and soon as they notice your tags and colors, they might come after you. We can't protect you in there as good as we can out here."

"So, what... I just drop out now?"

The gang leader gave him a hard look and pointed the fork at him. "Hell, no. Del says you're smarter than he is, so you're gonna get that GED and then go onto college. Ain't nobody wants to stay in this life unless they too stupid to make another."

Except for the hole in stage, the ground floor was quite stable. After some searching, Nuada and Orchid found the door to the basement and let Wink back out. For the rest of the day, he and the prince discussed fortifications, while Orchid was sent to clean up the mess of papers in the upstairs office. When she was done with that, Nuada sent her into the kitchen with Wink to help the troll set up the space he needed to work. They still had a good supply of hot rocks from their last trip to the San Francisco troll market, and Wink made a small pile in the cavern of the oven to start a fire. The counters weren't solid enough to hold up to heavy battering, so Wink was going to have to do the best he could with repairs and crafting. Fortunately, he'd already made a new gauntlet for Orchid to replace her old one; the girl was growing up quickly and the old one had been wearing sores into her wrist and hand.

Wink did the heavy lifting, moving a shell of a massive refrigerator aside to clear floor space. He tilted it to one side until gravity caught the steel box and dragged it down with a crash. He shoved it all the way against the wall, then tore away the island in the center of the kitchen and discarded it as well. The troll took out his stoneworking tools to finish clearing away broken tile and to smooth the jagged base of the island left in the center.

Orchid brought in the tattered pillows and mildewed bedding from the dance area and began to make a nest in one of the corners large enough for the troll to sleep comfortably. When he finally waved her away from that, she climbed up to kneel on the countertops while she went through the cabinets. Every can got a sour look and was discarded with the rest of the debris. The most precarious of the cabinet doors were tugged off and thrown away also. Another blanket was scrubbed along the floor with her feet, pushing aside dust and small bits of debris in lieu of a broom.

Nuada, meanwhile, left to scout the area once the sun had set. First, he prowled the immediate streets and alleys surrounding their new abode, drawing ancient glyphs in strategic places with his fingertips as he whispered words that no creature at home in this world had ever heard. A subtle quivering of the air settled around Midnighrunner; it would still be plainly visible to him and Wink, but human eyes would merely slide over it. Making an entire building invisible was too obvious and would actually work against them by attracting attention; making it simply unnoticeable was a more ideal way to avoid detection. Once the wards were set, he turned his attention to reconnaissance.

Midway through his patrol, he caught the scent of blood. Human blood. A frown crossed his face as his nerves sang to alertness. Nuada followed the stench, every muscle tense to attack, and he swallowed his disgust as the stink grew stronger. In the narrow space between Midnighrunner and the building behind it, he found the source. Buried under some carelessly strewn trash was the corpse of a human dressed in black sweat pants and a bright red satin jacket with the word "Chicago" across the back of it. A red bandana was knotted around his neck and plastic beads in red, black and green were tied around the wrist. The Elf turned the rigid corpse over with his foot.

Relatively young, for a human. Older than Orchid, he was certain, but not much more so. A small hole, encrusted with dried blood, was centered over where the heart was located, just next to an embroidered image of a bull on the front of the coat. The human's face was ashen under the bronzed skin, his eyes open with the brown irises clouded. A thin trickle of blood had dried from the corner of his mouth to the middle of his cheek where it had rested against the ground. A fly buzzed close to the face and landed on the edge of one nostril.

The human had died within the last two days, possibly as recently as their own arrival.

His mouth thinned in a scowl, not liking the conclusion at all.